


Corner of a Crooked Town

by Tabithian



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU - Comicverse, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 20:26:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim is not a fan of idiots. Really. Ask anyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corner of a Crooked Town

**Author's Note:**

> teakat asked for a fic based on [this post](http://tabithian.tumblr.com/post/32964195455/sugarseme-oh-my-god-that-is-the-most-annoying). :D?

Tim is not a fan of idiots. Really. Ask anyone.

“Cullen - “

“Demons, Tim.”

Well, just the one, but why quibble?

“Where's Jason?”

Cullen shrugs, as if it's his job to know the whereabouts of Jason Blood, and really? It's a good thing it isn't. Safer.

“You'd think they'd figure things out after a while,” Tim mutters. “But no. Just throw up a big 'Danger! Keep Out!' sign and hope no one's going to ignore it because that would be _wrong_.”

“Well you know how the rebellious youth of today like to stick it to the man,” Cullen says with a bright smile.

Tim raises an eyebrow, because Cullen. Because Cullen and Harper and he regrets so many of his life choices it isn't even funny. 

“You aren't as funny as you think you are, Cullen.”

Funny, no. Smart? Yes. Brimming with terrible decisions just waiting to be made? Absolutely.

“So...” Cullen pushes the notepad closer to Tim. “Are you going to look into this?”

As if Tim has a choice. 

Jason seals away a demon to keep it from wreaking death and destruction on the entire human race because he's one of the few people who can. The city authorities come along and see the aftermath, the wreckage left behind, and fills it in with cement and a shoddy chop-job that that has people taking pictures. Pictures that get thrown up on the internet for people to see and not a damn one of them knows the story behind the picture.

That's a best case scenario. Worst case, which is what this one happens to be, is when the people taking the picture do something to weaken the seals Jason placed on the demon. 

Waking it.

And then, if Tim's done something to make the universe mad at him, he's the one that has to clean up the mess because that's how his life works.

“Tim?”

Tim met Cullen and Harper because Harper is too damn smart for her own good, and too damn curious to let things lie when Tim told her to leave the damn tomb alone. (Gotham and her secrets hidden deep where people like Harper stumble upon them are part of the reason Tim keeps looking at real estate in other cities. Other states. Other _countries_.)

“Odd, don't you think,” Tim asks, picking up the notepad. “That Jason always manages to be elsewhere when things like this happen?” 

Oh, not when the demon decides Gotham with her _history_ and _weight_ , the bones of her sunk deep in the earth, would be a wonderful place to set up shop. 

No.

Jason's usually right there when things like that happen. It's things like this, some idiot waking the demon up, that Jason has something pressing to see to out of the city. If Tim was the suspicious sort (he is) he'd think Jason was going it on purpose.

********

Tim's family wasn't a conventional one, when it gets down to it. It wasn't even a particularly healthy one, for that matter. It just. Was.

Father, mother, son.

His father and his love for archeology, discovering the past. His mother and her love for - Her love. 

Tim and his love of puzzles, fostered at a young age by both parents. Tim and his propensity for obsessive behavior and piecing the smallest clues together to form a greater whole. 

Tim's father and his love for the past, and the wrong kind of luck that changes everything. 

Jason Blood and his curse/blessing, Etrigan.

Tim's own luck, and the way it tends to run counter to what he'd wish for. (A Drake trait, it would seem.)

Tim's _life_.

********

The thing about demons is that they're _demons_. Ancient and cruel and they delight, as much as beings like them are capable of things like that, in causing pain and terror.

“I told you to stay behind,” Tim says, patting Cullen's back, not unsympathetically. The idiot who woke the demon didn't die easy, and the evidence of that is all over the pavement, the wall of a nearby building. The city's cleaned the worst of it away, but there are stains and Cullen has a vivid imagination.

Cullen shakes his head, shaken and pale, but just as stubborn as his sister, as Tim, in his own way. “Harper and I agreed you aren't allowed to go on your own after the last time.”

Tim's never going to live that one down, he knows it. But. There's a difference between a bunch of twenty-somethings playing at dark wizards and dealing with an actual demon. 

“That's kind of the point,” Cullen says, when Tim says so. “If you got taken out by a bunch of college kids who thought Voldemort was real - “

“Okay, first,” Tim cuts in. “I did not get 'taken out' by them, and second, who says he isn't?” 

Perhaps not Voldemort exactly, but there are people like him in the world. (Tim has the scars and the hint of a limp to prove it.)

Hollywood never gets it right, but magic is real. Practitioners of dark magic are real. The things that go bump in the night? Also real. Just because you don't believe in them doesn't mean they don't exist.

“I seriously hate you right now,” Cullen says, leaning on him. “Seriously.”

Tim rolls his eyes. “How about you keep an eye out for the fuzz while I document the site.”

Cullen laughs at that, a pale imitation of his usual laugh. “No more bad movies for you. You sound ridiculous.”

Tim gives him a gentle push. “Just make sure Harper doesn't have to come up with bail for us, Cullen.”

********

Demons operate using their own system of what people see as values and morals and ethics. They do what they do for a reason. 

Hate. Desire. Greed. All the deadly sins _and_ the virtues. (Anything can be twisted into something it wasn't meant to be, look at Gotham.)

The city, her people. 

Neither are what they set out to be, and yet, _and yet_.

********

The thing about Gotham is that she's absolutely infested with Bats. A few Birds here and there, but for the most part, Bats.

“I know you know what constitutes breaking and entering, Dick. That whole police officer thing and everything.”

The corner of Dick's mouth ticks up at that. “I'm not a police officer anymore, Tim. Things get fuzzy after a while.” 

Tim sighs, reaching out to take the photos of the original site from Dick. “Don't poke your nose where it doesn't belong, Dick.” 

There have been several more grisly deaths since the demon awoke, but. It's not hunting, no. It's _playing_. A deadly game of tag, or better, hide and seek. _See me now, Blood? Come and find me, if you dare._

It's just too bad that Jason's still out of the city, away on business and Tim is the one to deal with the fallout. Cullen and Harper have gone quiet and grim in the face of each new death and Tim is doing what he can to keep them safe, keep them from doing something stupid. And now _Dick_.

Batman's meant for criminals of the maniacal laughter and over the top machinations sort. People like Jason Blood and Tim are meant for demonic laughter and over the top machinations. True, sometimes they meet, worlds colliding, but those times almost always end badly for all involved. 

“Babs said you were investigating this,” Dick presses, pulling himself to his full height.

As if Tim's going to be intimidated by him because he's wearing the Batsuit now, Bruce dealing with Batman Incorporated business elsewhere. 

There's no sign of Damian, but Tim's sure the little brat is nearby. He doesn't like Tim, which is perfectly understandable. He doesn't like letting Dick out of his sight when he visits Tim, the small shop he owns, and Tim actually approves. There are dangerous things here, and Dick is the worst king of curious and restless.

“I regret introducing her to Harper.” Tim regrets a lot of things, really, when all is said and done. 

“She's worried,” Dick points out, pulling the cowl down. “And no you don't.”

Tim doesn't, because it would have been dangerous if he hadn't, if he'd left Harper to her own devices. God knows Babs is the best person out there to keep her from getting into the wrong kind of trouble, unprepared and uninformed.

“Stay out of this one, Dick.” It's a warning, one he's sure Dick will ignore because Gotham is his city, now more than ever. 

“Tim - “

“Please.” It's cheating on Tim's part, but it's the only thing that will keep Dick out of this long enough for Tim to seal the demon away again. 

Dick looks at him. “See, when you pull that trick this early on, I know it's going to be bad.”

True, but. “I don't actually get hurt nearly as often as all of you seem to think I do.” 

“Just so you know? That's the opposite of reassuring, Tim.”

“Drastic measures,” Tim says, letting Dick back him up against his desk. “And for the record? This is also cheating.”

Dick cups Tim's face with his hands, the gauntlets cool to the touch, and smiles. “You know what they say, Tim. All's fair in love and war.”

“Dick - “

“Be careful,” Dick says, resting his forehead against Tim's. “Please. For me.”

“Cheating,” Tim murmurs, but it's in the shape of a promise neither one of them can ever make, close enough that it has meaning, intent.

********

Gotham is old, and has so many secrets.

Tim knows his fair share of them. (Too many, some might say.)

He knows Jason Blood and Etrigan who have been savior and teacher and friend in turn. He knows the things that go bump in the night because of them, and the things they taught him. The things that linger in Gotham's shadows. Lurking around the edges, dark and dangerous and _hers._

There are other things out there, of course, that Gotham shelters, harbors. Thieves and murderers and the things, people, that hunt them.

Her Bats, her Birds.

********

“Please don't tell me you need the blood of virgins for this.”

“Cullen - “

“Or goats! Where would we even get a goat?”

“Petting zoo,” Harper guesses, which.

“Not helpful, and also? Not necessary.” Tim can feel a headache coming on. Right behind his eyes. “I need both of you to steer clear of the site, okay? No lurking or skulking or 'late-night strolls'.”

“No.”

“Like hell!”

And, see. This is where having minions – no, sorry, _assistants_ – is an all-over terrible idea. 

“This demon is dangerous and you two are particularly tasty looking to it.” Good hearts, souls, in a world with so few, in city with so few. “I don't want a repeat with the - “

“Not our fault!” Cullen cries, pointing at Tim. “You can't blame us for poor city planning! All the streets looked alike!”

_Migraine._

“Cullen. Harper.” Tim takes a deep breath, and because it feels good, he takes another. “I appreciate what you're trying to do here, I really do. Now I want you to appreciate the fact that I'd actually like the two of you to be around a little longer to cause me endless pain and suffering in the only way you know how, okay? So please, please, listen to me on this.”

Harper's eyes narrow. “You're not going to do something stupid?”

Tim just looks at her because going up against a demon is pretty much the definition of stupid.

“You're not going to do anything stupider than this,” she clarifies, waving a hand at the table and the city blueprints spread over them that Harper and Barbra so helpfully provided him with.

Not intentionally, no. 

“Tim - “

“No.”

Harper's amazing at sniffing out lies, but Tim's been at it longer than she has and has the edge here. 

“Everything's going to be fine, okay? I've got it under control. Trust me.”

********

Belief – faith – is a key component in any undertaking.

An object is just that without belief behind it, a book just a book. A person just another person. A city just another city.

Magic – not all of it, but a large portion of it – relies on belief, faith. Trust that it will work, that it will protect you and it will. 

_Peter Pan_ and Tinkerbell, clap your hands if you believe.

Waver in your belief, and you see the cracks start to form, see the flaws around you. You stop believing that it will work, and it _will_ fail you.

Belief – faith – are things that can be twisted into something they were never meant to be. 

********

Tim's never actually sealed a demon away on his own before. That might have been important to tell Harper and Cullen beforehand.

“ _What?_ ”

Yet another reason to regret introducing Babs to Harper. 

Tim winces, and reaches up to lower the volume on the earpiece. Harper's not happy, is doing a very good job of being outright furious with him.

“Tim, you idiot!” Comes from three voices, and maybe if Tim wasn't in the middle of drawing a very special devil's trap, he'd be impressed.

As it is, he's got a task to complete, and little enough time to do it in.

Down here he can feel Gotham's heartbeat, the steady thrum of it. Up at street level it's deafening, lost in the cacophony of sound of her people, but down here it's simple and strong. 

A lifeline.

“Clap your hands if you believe,” Tim says, grim smile on his face because he can feel the demon coming. 

The way its presence throws off the beat of Gotham's heart, dampening it. 

“Tim?”

He reaches up and removes the earpiece, puts it into a pocket for safekeeping.

From deep in the tunnels under Gotham, a roar, bestial, fury and wrath and death and destruction.

Tim's set up wards, created by Jason because like Tim, sometimes he just knows. (Unlike Tim, it's partly because of Etrigan.) 

There are wards, sigils carved and painted in the stone and wood around him, some with the knife Jason had gifted him so long ago, some in holy water – some in blood. (Tim's.) 

Enough to bind the demon in place long enough for the incantation, to put it to sleep and seal it away. (He hopes.)

The floor beneath his feet tremble, the demon making its presence known as it approaches, old and cruel, and far more powerful than Tim. 

His eyes go to the hidden protections strategically placed in the crumbling chamber, he takes a steadying breath. 

“Clap your hands if you believe.”

********

Tim isn't like Jason, like Etrigan. He isn't magic, doesn't have it in his veins. He can, at best, hear it. Register its presence, that yes, _there_ , it does exist.

He's not magic, but he studies it. Finds the little cracks, the flaws inherent in it, and set them aside. Small pieces of a larger puzzle.

He learns from Jason how to counter magical enemies, their weaknesses, their strengths. For those who are aware enough, how to out think them. He learns everything he can, because this is Gotham and the unexpected happens more often than anyone would imagine.

********

“We really need to talk about your bad habits,” Dick says, tired, worried. “Playing bait is never okay, Tim.”

Tim opens his eyes to darkness, but it's. He's safe. Because Dick is there, and also a colossal hypocrite – but that's beside the point.

“The demon - “

“Jason's mad at you too, by the way,” Dick says, moving into Tim's line of sight. “I get the feeling Etrigan's impressed, but.” Dick shrugs because it's Etrigan, and impressing him should be on no one's list of things to do ever.

“I knew what I was doing,” Tim points out. 

“Of course you did,” Dick says, sitting next to him. “Funny how whenever you say things like that you end up like this.”

Hurting, feeling wrung out, like maybe Tim doesn't make the best decisions in the world. (True.) 

(He remembers the demon, shimmering scales and flat black eyes, hands tipped in wicked claws and fangs protruding from its mouth. The sense of wrongness that surrounded it, pressing down on him. He remembers Jason's wards slipping toward the end, the demon's howl of rage and frustration and the feel of its claws slicing through his clothes, his skin.)

He should have dragged Jason back from wherever he'd gone to deal with the demon instead of taking it on himself. But if he had, if he'd left Gotham to look for Jason, he knows more lives would have been lost. The demon left unchecked in a city like Gotham, with her history, her weight, her bones sunk deep in the earth. 

He _knows_ that. Knowing that, however, doesn’t make having to face Dick afterward any easier. Doesn't make having to face Harper and Cullen and the others easier.

“Dick - “

“Jason told us you were careful,” Dick says, taking one of Tim's hands in his, carefully, gently. “That doesn't mean we're not mad at you.”

Because Tim's an idiot, a truth he freely and willingly accepts, but. He's lost so much over the years, his mother and father among them. He takes the risks he does, the cost only to himself because the fear of losing anyone else is too strong sometimes. 

“I know.”

Dick sighs, thumb sweeping over the back of Tim's hand in soothing circles. “You really need to stop doing this to us, you know.”

And.

Tim snorts, because once again – _hypocrite_ \- and immediately regrets it because the demon and its claws and Tim's side. “Ow.” 

Dick shakes his head, “Idiot.” He settles in next to Tim, never letting go of his hand. He wraps his other arm around Tim's shoulders, careful of his injuries. “Don't ever do that again.”

It's not something Tim can promise, any more than Dick can promise not to get hurt when he's Batman, to always come back to Tim safe and sound, but.

“I'll try,” he says. Smiling at Dick's huff, breath ghosting along his cheek.

“You better,” Dick says, curling around him as much as he can with Tim's injuries.

Sometimes the intent is enough if you believe. 


End file.
